I Will Carry You
by Suiren-chan
Summary: Amidst sorrow and pain, Sam continues to have courage enough to carry Frodo up Mount Doom, hope that they will complete their task, and love for his dear friend. Not slash, and song by Clay Aiken


Title: I Will Carry You

Author: Suiren-chan

Rating: PG

Pairing: S/F

Summary: Amidst sorrow and pain, Sam continues to have courage enough to carry Frodo up Mount Doom, hope that they will complete their task, and love for his dear friend.

Disclaimer: Hobbits belong to Tolkien, and the song "I Will Carry You" belongs to Clay Aiken.

The road they traveled was black with dirt and darkness. Grime covered the two wanderers from head to filthy foot. It seemed a hopeless battle against the elements that no two small hobbits could wage on their own. The hopelessness of their efforts finally seemed to catch up to even stout-hearted Sam, who hung his head in despair when he cast a sidelong glance at Frodo. His poor, brave Frodo.

_Yeah I know it hurts,_

_Yeah I know you're scared, _

_Walking down the road that leads to who knows where._

Sam had been so close to giving up as well, just forgetting his determination and sleeping away the day with Frodo by his side. That way neither of them would have to endure the suffering of the day to come, and the day after, and after, and –

But that way of thinking wasn't Sam being true to himself. He never would have given the option of backing down to Frodo, who was so far gone in the fiery world of the ring, that he was all but oblivious to Sam's presence. Samwise Gamgee never gave up when things got too hard, but this wasn't any normal challenge. Sam actually dared a half smile when he thought of a stubborn weed in the garden instead of a life or death quest to burn an evil ring.

_Don't you hang your head_

_Don't you give up yet_

_When courage starts to disappear, I will be right here._

As long as he was here, both hobbits would continue on their doomed journey across the plains of Gorgoroth and up Mount Doom. Sam vowed that he would always be there to direct their path, and he knew he belonged at Frodo's side and nowhere else. He proved that the day he followed his master into the Anduin. His heart had not changed since that day, but Frodo's heart had seemingly disappeared.

Then there were the days that his poor Frodo's mind returned to the here and now, and his eyes refocused, only to be squinted again in pain instead of numbing fire.

"Sam!" he would gasp, "Save me! Help me please!" Sam would cry the tears his master couldn't and fall at his feet to hold his hand possessively, as he could do no more to help his soul. "Sam!" Frodo would call blindly, "The voices! Tell them to stop! I don't want to hurt you. Tell them to stop!" But of course, Sam could do no such thing. Every day killed Sam in such a different way than the ringbearer, but he tried as hard as he could. He held Frodo's shuddering body close and would whisper softly in his ear to calm him.

"I'm still here, and you're with me, and neither of us isn't goin' nowhere." Frodo must carry the ring, but Sam had to carry him.

_When your world breaks down and the voices tell you turn around,_

_When your dreams give out I will carry you, carry you._

Everything had been put in perspective on this journey. Everything seemed so distant, except danger, that is. Sam looked up at the stars as he trudged along in the dusty dirt. The stars were bright and beautiful – the only beauty left in this horrible place. Mordor was as far opposite what a hobbit needed as the stars were opposite the sun.

Sam picked up a noise in the distance, and looked aside to Frodo, but Frodo wasn't there. Sam turned wildly and realized as he had been looking at stars, his master fell behind. As he was walking toward his goal he was forced away. Their whole journey had been this way.

Sam quickly stumbled back to Frodo, fearful of leaving him for a moment, and tripping on hidden stones under weary feet. Frodo had collapsed on the ground, his legs folded under him. Sam dropped beside him, ignoring the pain in his bruised knees and gathered the sitting Frodo in his arms.

"You can't go no further, can you?" Sam asked him gently. In response, Frodo grabbed hold of what was left of Sam's shirt and shook his head. "Oh, Frodo," Sam sobbed looking toward the sky, "Mr. Frodo, just look up. Everything seems so hopeless, but the stars are smiling down on us. You love the stars, and they'll light a path for you."

Frodo obediently looked up, but his face was blank. "Sam," Frodo whispered hoarsely; it was the one word he spoke the most, "I am blind."

"No you're not, Sam said gruffly, shaking him ever so slightly, "Try again."

Frodo cried for the first time since his eyes had dried and crusted from the dirt and wind.

"I can't see anything, Sam," Frodo continued to sob in harsh, rasping tones as he curled his arms around his protector, "Nothing but darkness. I can't even see _you_."

_When the stars go blind and the darkness starts to flood your eyes,_

_When you're falling behind, I will carry you._

Sam watched as the tears forced their way past bloodshot grey eyes and down sunken cheeks smudged and scratched with dirt and rock until they landed on his dear master's torn and bleeding neck. Sam's eyes were drawn to the ring, which caused his poor Frodo so much pain. How could anyone want such a thing? Sam could only look on it with loathing, and the only reason he couldn't bring himself to give it back to Frodo in the tower was because he couldn't bear to see the hurt continue. If only he could help more…

Sam wrapped his own elven cloak around Frodo for whatever warmth they could muster. It was all they had left. There was no food or water, no lembas even. Frodo wore the bare remains of what used to be an orc outfit, and Sam had his tattered breeches and shirt. All they had was each other. And the ring. That accursed ring. That loathsome piece of jewelry that ripped Frodo up from inside out with its many voices and images.

And Sam knew about those voices because he held for a time, even though it was thankfully short. 'Samwise, Hero of the Age,' it had called him. Sam hated himself for listening to its advice, but he only wanted to be a hero for Frodo. To destroy the ring and save his master was his only goal, and it saw right through him. 'Take it for your own,' the voices told him, 'and you will have all you ever wanted for yourself and your master.'

Sam tried to not listen, but he was too curious. It was in his head, and he couldn't block it out. He saw pictures of beautiful gardens that rivaled flowers in Rivendell and Lothlorien combined, and he saw the Shire looking better than how they left it, the opposite of what Galadriel's mirror had showed. He saw Frodo at home in Bag End, where he belonged, and he was happy. It was when the images changed again to show Sam as master of the Shire, that he knew they were false. Sam was humble, and he didn't need credit for anything – everything he did was out of the goodness of his heart.

The ring had tricked him, and Frodo was a marvel for being able to stand so long with it. Sam was sure that Frodo wasn't seeing gardens and peace – the ring knew Frodo by now, and hated him for not giving in. That's why Frodo spoke of fire and darkness, Sam was sure, because the ring couldn't trick him with empty promises. Now, they both tried to destroy each other, and all Sam could do was watch the endless battle.

_Everybody cries,_

_Everybody bleeds,_

_No one ever said that life's an easy thing._

"Mr. Frodo, we'll rest here," Sam told the hobbit sobbing into him, "Close your eyes and go to sleep. It don't matter if you can't see naught when I'm here. I'll be your eyes." Sam lifted him up and placed him in a less rocky area cast in shadow where they stood less of a chance to be seen. Frodo's eyes were open and clouded, showing his body lay shuddering while his mind was far away. A minute ago, when Frodo peered up at the sky, his eyes were clear, and he cried. He would remember what happened then, but Sam found his master couldn't remember anything when his eyes were clouded this way, and he didn't know if that was good or not.

Sam placed his hand over Frodo's face and closed his eyes for him as he lay down in the dirt too. With the last bit of strength he had left, Sam pulled the cloak around Frodo so he blended in with the grey around him all except his head. Sam cradled him close, and felt his breathing return to as near to normal as possible for Frodo.

"Nothin' will hurt you now," Sam breathed in his ear, "I love you and I would never leave you, ever. It'll be better in the morning, or so I can hope, me dear."

_That's the beauty of it, _

_When you lose your way,_

_Close your eyes and go to sleep and wake up to another day._

Sam didn't want to wake up, but he had no way of knowing how long they slept. He wished they could know if it even was morning, for that matter. Even still, when Sam opened his eyes, he had a feeling they should keep on for today they would climb that mountain. At least, that was his hope. "A hopeless hope," Sam thought when he glanced up the slope they had to conquer.

Sam gently woke Frodo and the hobbit quickly stumbled to his feet, instinctively knowing there was walking to be done, but not really there in any of his actions. Not only did it make the marching harder for Sam because he had to stop and help Frodo when his eyes again failed him, but it gave Sam no one to talk to. Nothing preoccupied Sam's mind except worry and the strength it took to block out his own misery. His legs were always aching, his feet were cut and infected even through the thick sole, and Sam had become much thinner than he used to be. They both had.

Sam's mind reeled for sustenance; anything that would keep it busy, and it unfortunately turned to the Shire, because no place was better than home in a hobbit's mind. How did he get started on this quest? The beginning seemed so far away, and the ending so near.

"Gandalf came and that's when we had to leave," Sam thought to himself. "No, it was Bilbo's and Frodo's birthday, and that's why he stopped by." Thoughts trigger other thoughts so easily when one is lonesome, and Sam was no exception. How many birthdays had it been for them on this trail? Sam wondered why the wizard had to die, and surely if he did, they would too. The hobbit squinted his eyes against the thought of the quest being the end of everyone in the Fellowship, and what of Merry and Pippin? What if nothing was achieved? What of the Shire and his old gaffer and his brothers and sisters, and the Cottons?

That was how his world broke down, and now that he remembered the beginning of their quest, Sam had to hope with all his heart that this wouldn't be the last age for all of them. Sam and Frodo would save them.

In the middle of that thought, Sam felt a strange sensation. Thanks to the "help" of that Gollum, he had always felt watched no matter what he did, but this feeling near froze his insides. Sam blinked into the dust filled sky and saw it – the eye. It hung in the sky, reflecting in his mind as if it wasn't real but an image from the ring, if he had been wearing it. But he wasn't – Frodo was, and –

"Frodo, get down!" Sam called as soon as he realized the danger for his friend if he were to be seen. Frodo's eyes snapped into focus and he saw what worried Sam, but it didn't see him. A hope. The hope dispersed into horror as Sam watched Frodo crumple to the ground as if mortally wounded.

"Hang on, me dear," Sam thought to himself as he cowered in the dirt a few arm lengths from Frodo, "I'll be right there!"

_When your world breaks down and the voices tell you turn around,_

_When your dreams give out I will carry you, carry you._

Sam achingly dragged himself to Frodo's side and managed not to be seen. They would crawl if they had to and not look up toward the non-existent top of the mountain. Instead, Sam looked at his friend and was horrified at the pain he saw in Frodo's face. Frodo was breathing heavily and sporadically with his teeth gritted and his eyes squeezed shut.

"Oh, Frodo," Sam's voice creaked, "You don't deserve this." Sam offered his hand to the withered hobbit and was surprised at the grip he felt.

"Sam," Frodo gagged. Yes, there it was – his name. Frodo would remember this torture, but Sam wasn't sure how long they would live to remember it. It was true, but Sam didn't want to face reality: his Frodo was dying.

Sam heard a faint cry and he peered ahead of him into the dust. Frodo had collapsed. Walk, crawl, collapse. It was torture for Sam, who could barely carry his own weight up the mountain. Sam slowly managed his way to Frodo and wrapped his arms around him. There were no words beautiful or optimistic enough to tell Frodo right then. Nothing Sam did could boost his spirits, and nothing at this point would keep him alive. It takes such extreme emotion and love as could be found in Sam's heart to find the strength to do what he said to Frodo next:

"I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you!"

_When the stars go blind and the darkness starts to flood your eyes,_

_When you're falling behind, I will carry you._

If only every friendship were as powerful as that of Frodo and Sam, the world would be a better place. It was pure love that kept Sam plodding to the top of Mount Doom. It surely wasn't muscle strength – that had run out long ago.

But there was that feeling again. Sam paused for only a moment, but it was long enough to see the creature he despised so much, return to break them apart. Gollum! Sam attacked the vile creature that was laying his hands on Frodo, who in a moment of passion, attempted to ward him off. Sam wrestled Gollum to the ground and in only a split second of time, Frodo was sprinting up the mountain without his protector. Sam rushed to be by his side, but was it too late? Upon entering the cave, the mouth of the volcano, Sam felt the greatest fear of his life. Frodo was…different. He didn't look weak anymore. His face was frightening, and his eyes were black. He had to throw it in the fire! But no, it then became obvious to Sam that he wasn't planning to. He was giving in. How could he do this? Not after all this time!

"NO!" Sam screamed, but it fell on deaf ears. With all of his attention focused on Frodo, Sam didn't see the creature sneaking up behind him. His vision suddenly darkened as immense pain rushed to his head. Sam wished in his last moments he could have at least seen the ring destroyed and peace restored. Sam felt liquid running down his forehead and knew with deep sorrow and regret that the nightmare would continue

Sam watched the events that occurred next with blurry vision. His thoughts were jumbled and he hated himself for not being able to get himself up off the ground. But in a few moments it was all over.

There was Frodo, ringless, his eyes full of life, and that was all Sam could make out before he felt himself being pulled at a rapid pace toward a blurry light. It was Frodo holding his hand – his Frodo. The ring was destroyed forever, and so was that foul creature.

_You should know now that you're not alone._

_Take my heart and we will find, you will find, your way home. _

Bodies torn and broken, but hearts very much whole, the hobbits leaped through the lava from the erupting volcano, and this time, Frodo was the one protecting Sam. They climbed to safety atop a large boulder in a sea of red. Frodo held Sam securely and tucked his shredded feet up on the rock so they wouldn't be burned. Looking down at him with pure blue eyes, Frodo thanked his lucky stars that they were both alive. But most of all, he thanked Sam.

"I'm glad you're with me, Sam, here at the end of all things."

"I'm always goin' to be with you, Frodo. There's naught that could keep me away."

_When your dreams give out I will carry you, carry you._

_When the stars go blind and the darkness starts to flood your eyes,_

_When you're falling behind, I will carry you, carry you, _

"Sam, thank you," Frodo whispered, "You're the true hero of this tale. I wish I could remember everything you did for me and everything that happened. Oh Sam, look what you've endured!" Frodo cried as the lava from the volcano rose around them.

"It's goin' to be all right," Sam reassured him breathlessly through closed eyes.

"No it isn't," Frodo sobbed, "How can you still have hope? I wish for once that there was something I could do for you, after you carried me." Sam was amazed Frodo remembered that much, but he was glad. He couldn't say how glad.

"Having you here looking like your old self, like the real Frodo I know, that's all I can ask for. As long as you're near, I always have hope."

_I will carry you, carry you,_

_I will carry you, carry you, _

"Yes, but Sam, will you promise you'll always be with me?" Frodo asked with concern as the smoke choked Sam and the air became thick and heavy. Sam felt at ease for the first time in ages, knowing what they accomplished. And with his endless supply of hope, he could answer Frodo truthfully. Sam managed to mouth, "Always," and fell into unconsciousness in Frodo's arms.

_I will carry you._


End file.
